Perhaps it was guilt, he pondered. She’d said how guilty she felt when she and Banks had kissed so passionately just before Mike Johns was killed. Yes, that had to be it. She was still working through the guilt.

All he had to do was be persistent, he told himself. Maybe he could get her down to the ranch on the weekend and have her to himself. That was going to be his next move. He didn’t have much time, so he was going to have to be quick. In two short weeks, she’d be back on her way to South America. The thought was depressing.

Clancey could almost see the thoughts in his mind. Grace didn’t like firearms and he worked in law enforcement. There were probably other issues as well, since Grace didn’t apparently approve of Banks’s sister, Brenda.

She hated herself for being glad about that. She chided herself for it. She wanted Banks to be happy. It wasn’t kind to wish him ill. He was crazy about Grace. She’d seen his face when they embraced. It had wounded her. He was still involved with the woman, after all the years she’d been away. Clancey had hoped... Well, she had to face reality. Her stepbrother was coming home to kill her. She hoped her death wouldn’t inconvenience Banks too much.

She had to fight hysterical laughter at the thought. She took a deep breath and turned off her computer. She went into the bathroom and called a cab, so that Banks wouldn’t hear her do it. She didn’t want him to know where she was going.

It was going to be a difficult couple of days. She wished Morris would decide to go and live somewhere a thousand miles away. That was unrealistic. Why would he, when he had a house right here in San Antonio that Clancey had been keeping up.

She paid the utilities, including the heat. Everything was current, including the mortgage payment. Lucky Morris. He wouldn’t have to worry about power or heat or water and garbage pickup for a month, at least.

She groaned inwardly. The homeless shelter was nice. But it wasn’t home. At least, it was unlikely that Morris would look for her and Tad there. She recalled that there was also a battered women’s shelter, but she hesitated to go there with Tad. It might be the first place Morris would look.

She put on her ragged coat and picked up her purse. “I’m leaving,” she told Banks.

He looked up, surprised, as if he hadn’t registered the time.

“Is it quitting time already?” he asked.

She nodded. “I have to pick up Tad at school.”

He frowned, remembering her recent lung infection. “It’s cold and it’s raining out. I can drive you...”